


It's Not Enough to Say That I Miss You

by rogersmorse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Divorce, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4631292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogersmorse/pseuds/rogersmorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I lost all my clothes." She snorts unapologetically, crossing her arms over her chest, and she realizes belatedly that, in addition to not wearing pants, she's also not wearing a bra.</p>
<p>What a great time to be dealing with her ex husband who showed up naked and unannounced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Enough to Say That I Miss You

**Author's Note:**

> [Emily](https://twitter.com/LanceMorses) tweeted "can someone write me a Lancebob fic with the sentence 'I've lost all my clothes'?" and well.
> 
> Funny thing is, this wasn't originally going to be smutty. 
> 
> Title comes from "Untouched" by the Veronicas (holy throwback, batman).

Bobbi's on her third glass of wine when someone knocks at the door. She looks down at her bare legs and sighs; well, whoever was at the door was going to see a lot more of her, and she just passed the point of being sober enough to care. 

As soon as she opens the door, she wishes desperately that she was wearing more clothes.

"Hunter," she says, eyebrows flying to her hairline when she sees his attire.

Or, lack thereof.

He's completely naked, save for his leather jacket, which he's holding in front of his dick.

_Now would be a perfect time for Ms. Merriweather to spy out of her peephole_ , Bobbi thinks, bringing a hand up to cover her grin. 

"Listen-."

"Oh yes, please tell me why you're standing in front of my apartment at 1 in the morning, completely naked." He sighs exasperatedly, bottom lip sticking out in a half-pained pout.

"Bob, please can I explain this inside?"

"No. Oh no, I think this is a story I have to hear right now, exactly where we're standing." He scowls at her before moving the jacket to cover his ass, but not without showing Bobbi way more than she needs to see. 

She's thankful that she's on her way to being tipsy and not drunk, because this is a memory she will cherish forever.

"I lost all my clothes." She snorts unapologetically, crossing her arms over her chest, and she realizes belatedly that, in addition to not wearing pants, she's also not wearing a bra.

What a great time to be dealing with her ex husband who showed up naked and unannounced.

"A job got just a little too hot and well, my clothes are nothing more than ash in the wind." She notes the soot lines on his face and curses herself for not noticing then earlier. They may have gotten a divorce, but that doesn't mean she's stopped caring about him (or stopped loving him, but she’ll never admit to that, even with a few glasses of wine in her).

"Is everyone else alright?"

"Yeah, Vic picked up Izzy and Idaho was nowhere near the building so he checked into a hotel." He squirms, looking down both ends of the hallways and she rolls her eyes, shoving the door open just enough that he can hobble inside.

“I didn’t know where else to go, and I know you gave me your address in case of emergency and, well, I figured this constituted as an emergency.” She closes the door, leaning against it for a few seconds too long.

“Bob? Is-. Is everything alright?” She looks over her shoulder as she turns, a fake smile plastered on her face, but it fades as soon as she sees him standing in the middle of her living room, reaching for her half-empty bottle of wine with one hand, still holding his jacket with the other.

She swallows thickly and blinks, trying to remember his question, and it’s just slightly possible that she’s more tipsy than she thought.

“Bobbi?” He’s looking at her, concern evident in his eyes, and she exhales shakily as he walks toward her. Her gaze is immediately drawn to the way his muscles bunch and flex and, given the way her stomach clenches and her mouth runs dry, she knows it’s been way too long since she had sex.

He puts his hand on her shoulder and it burns like a brand, even through her thin shirt. Before she can think twice, she’s leaning forward to press her lips firmly against his, fingers twining in the short hairs at the back of his neck. Lance makes a surprised whimper before pressing her against the door as he takes a step back. 

“Bob, are you s-.”

“Shut up,” she breathes, tugging him back against her body, kissing him passionately. He stands stiffly, still gripping his jacket tightly around his waist, hesitant to kiss her back. “Jesus, yes I’m sure,” she groans against his lips and he sighs, dropping the jacket in favor of pressing her hips into the door.

She whines at the sudden pressure, tilting her head back, and he slides the hand on her shoulder to her jaw, holding her in place. He nips down the pale column of her neck, nosing at the red blossoms he leaves behind.

Lance pushes the hem of her shirt up slowly, moving back briefly to tug it over her head.

"I knew you kept some of my clothes," he mutters and she chuckles, arching into his touch as he skims his fingers over her side.

"They became mine as soon as I put them on, you knew that," she rasps, her eyes sliding shut as he cups her breast. "Hell, you even said it."

"You do still wear them better than I do," he murmurs against her neck as he pulls her off the door and walks her over to the couch, shoving her down over the armrest. She yelps as she goes down, which only serves to make her curl up and giggle while he walks around to the front. Lance rolls his eyes as he kneels in front of her and grabs her legs, turning her to face him, and she stops laughing abruptly.

He's eyeing her as he hooks his thumbs in the lace of her panties, tugging them slowly down her long legs. He spreads her legs and kisses his way up, taking his goddamned time. There were times when all she wanted was slow and sweet.

This was not one of those times.

Bobbi whines, high-pitched and needy, lifting her hips in the air, hoping that he'd relieve the throbbing ache between her thighs.

"Someone's impatient," he chuckles against the side of her knee, pausing to suck a bruise into the skin there, and she moans wantonly.

Her hand on her stomach inches upward, fingers dancing over her sternum until she's roughly squeezing her breast, arching up into her own touch.

"I could just get started with you, shove your naked ass back outside," she teases breathlessly as her palm drags over her nipple, creating a delicious friction that makes her insides twist.

"You could," Lance mumbles into inner thigh, punctuating his words with a nip at the soft flesh there. "But then you'd miss out on this."

His mouth closes over her, his hands sliding under her thighs to hold her close. She's gasping for air as soon as he flicks his tongue over her clit and rubs circles into her lower back with his thumbs.

"Christ, maybe I'll keep you around just for this," she manages to get out, voice sounding more strangled than it did a minute ago. Warmth spreads through her veins as he sucks gently while she cups her breasts.

She rolls her nipples between her fingers, sighing at the sparks that shoot down to her stomach, making her thighs twitch around his head. He pulls back to eye her warily and she snorts.

"You have always said that the best way to die would be between my thighs." Lance rolls his eyes as he removes a hand from her back, tracing down the curve of her ass. He circles the tip of his finger around her entrance, but he pulls back as soon as she tries to rock her hips down onto his hand, eliciting a whine from Bobbi. 

"I will admit, never envisioned dying while I was eating you out," he says with a chuckle as he sucks a bruise into her inner thigh. "Wouldn't be a completely terrible way to go out." She groans as he presses a soft kiss to her clit, his fingers still teasing around her entrance.

"I think I might die soon if you don't get on with i- oh, jesus bloody christ." He huffs through his nose at her word choice as he thrusts his middle finger inside her, pumping it in and out of her smoothly. She looks down at him and he closes his mouth over her again, sucking gently as he tilts his head up. Lance slides a second finger alongside the first and she lifts her legs over his shoulders, changing the angle as his fingers shift inside her.

"Good god in heaven above, just like that," she gasps as she throws her head back, one hand leaving her breast to push his head close. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bobbi remembers his reaction to pulling his hair. She tugs the short strands lightly and he moans against her. A whine escapes past her lips as her hips buck up and she brushes her thumb down over her nipple, pleasure sparking violently through her veins.

She feels him grin as he crooks his fingers on an inward thrust while he toys with her clit, something that always drove her insane. She rocks her hips as he pounds his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace, and her toes start to curl.

"Fuck, 'm almost there," she pants, kneading her breast. He circles her clit with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth and she comes, gasping something that sounds like his name.

Lance continues to lick at her as she comes down, withdrawing his fingers after her thighs have stopped trembling and relishing in the way her hips twitch into the air. He moves to sit next to her on the couch while she stares at the ceiling with glassy eyes, chest heaving as she tries to get her breathing back under control. Bobbi can feel his shameless gaze roving over her body and she arches her back, a grin spreading across her lips as he exhales shakily.

"I've missed your mouth," she sighs as she moves to straddle his hips. He snorts in response, hands automatically resting on her hips as he looks into her eyes.

"I believe at one point, you called my mouth 'snarky and dumb'." His thumbs press into the hollows of her hips, and she turns her gaze to the ceiling as she slowly moves her hips in a wide circle.

"I've missed what you can do with your mouth," she rephrases as a breath stutters out of his nose. _Good_ , she thinks with a grin. He's still way too composed for her liking, but she knows she can quickly change that. She rolls her hips forward a few times before settling down on his thighs, hand lightly trailing down his side.

“This one’s new,” she mumbles to herself mostly, tracing along the recently healed scar just under his ribcage.

“Someone brought a knife to a gunfight,” he answers and she bends to kiss it softly. He lifts a hand to her jaw, pulling her back up to look him in the eye. “I’m fine now.” Bobbi rolls her eyes and leans forward, slanting her mouth over his. His hold on her hip tightens as she continues to move her hand down, dragging her fingers lightly over the prominent ridge of his hipbone.

“Your stitches were uneven.” Lance rolls his eyes and she smirks before taking him in her hand.

“Idaho doesn’t have your steady hand,” he gasps against her lips as his hips jerk up into her hand. The smirk on her face turns into a wolfish grin as his words click and she resists the urge to chuckle. She sweeps her thumb over the head of his cock and spreads the precome gathering there. His head falls to the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling as he whines and whimpers and keens.

Bobbi’s always loved the noises he made. They simply served to spur her on, make her wetter, made her want to see what other noises she could draw out of him. A divorce could never change that.

She twists her hand on a downstroke and trails her lips down his neck, biting the cord of muscle that stands out. A bitten-off moan falls from his lips and his fingers twitch on her hips, digging in, and she’s sure there’ll be light bruises there tomorrow. She keeps a slow rhythm as she drags her lips over his skin, until his fingers wrap around her wrist.

“If you keep that up, this’ll be over quicker than either of us would like,” Lance pants, looking down at her, chest heaving and flushed. There are already some dark bruises forming on his shoulders and neck, contrasting beautifully with the pink blush.

Bobbi scoots forward and kneels up, then lowers herself, guiding his cock inside her. 

“Fuck, Bobbi, _christ_ you’re wet,” he manages brokenly, hands aiding her as she works him all the way inside. When she’s finally sitting flush against his hips, she takes a moment to relish in the way he fills her so completely before bucking her hips a little, testing the waters.

Lance groans deeply, eyes fluttering shut, and she grins at his reaction as she repeats the action. One of his hands glides up her stomach to cover her breast, thumb circling her nipple, and it sounds like the air’s been punched out of her. 

She gradually moves her hips quicker, moaning softly when he starts to thrust up into her, hips meeting hers every time she rocks downward. Bobbi lets her head fall back, bracing her arm on his knee. It shifts the angle that he occasionally brushes over the spot that starts a fire under her skin, the heat spreading outward as he thrusts up into her.

Lance sits up suddenly, his arm supporting the line of her back and pressing her chest back to his. He can’t exactly thrust up now that he’s carrying most of their weight, and the insistent throbbing between her legs dies back down to a dull thrum. 

“Next time, we’re making it to a fucking bed,” she whines before she can stop herself, circling her hips desperately. Bobbi tilts her head down to look at him, meeting his half-lidded eyes, dark with desire, and it makes her heart skip a beat.

She swallows thickly and he places his hand on her cheek, pulling her down for a kiss. It’s sweet and soft, a complete contrast to the mood a few seconds ago, and her chest twinges.

This was the Lance she fell in love with. She can feel herself wanting to fall back into their old patterns, but they both knew how that always ended. It was better this way (at least that what she keeps telling herself).

Bobbi shoves the thoughts out of her head, deepens the kiss, and rolls her hips down _hard_. She swallows the moan he lets out and leans into him, thinking he’ll fall back against the couch. 

But then he’s twisting her and she falls to the couch with a gasp, head propped up on the armrest. He settles between her legs, forcing them up around his hips, and the angle is better than it was before. 

Lance lets one foot fall to the floor, giving him the perfect leverage, and her mouth falls open more and more as he thrusts. The steady thrum of pleasure builds up quickly again and she claws at his back. His neck, shoulders, and chest are already spotted with bruises; might as well mark him up while she can.

On one thrust, he finds the spot that fills her vision with black dots and she arches up into him. “Lance, right there, oh holy fuck,” she stammers, eyes sliding shut. And then his mouth is hot and wet on her breast and she cries out, hand flying to the back of his head, holding him there. He nips at the soft swell before capturing her nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue.

It takes her a minute to realize that the high-pitched whines are coming from her own mouth, and she can feel her face flush. But then his fingers are circling around her clit as he pounds into her, and she’s gone, flying over the edge with bitten-off, broken curses and hands grabbing at any and all skin she can reach. 

He pulls away from her breast, swearing as he thrusts harder and faster, movements growing erratic. His hips meet hers once, twice, three more times and comes, groaning and shuddering throughout his release. 

Bobbi tries to remember how to breathe as she smooths a hand over his back. His forehead is pressed against her shoulder as he pants into the top of her breast, hot breath ghosting over her sweaty skin. She curves a palm around the back of his neck as her heart finally stops trying to beat its way out of her ribcage.

Her eyes have fallen shut when Lance finally pulls out, and a whimper escapes past her lips before she can stop it. He hums and brushes his lips across her forehead, the barest amount of pressure that she nearly misses it, before he pushes himself off the couch.

“I’m going to assume you have some clothes I can borrow,” he mutters, running a hand over his hair. Bobbi nods, throat closing up for reasons she chooses to ignore, and she gets up off the couch, leading the way to her bedroom. 

Her room is still awkwardly empty, a few boxes shoved against the wall in favor of her actually unpacking them. She feels her cheeks heat and she holds an arm out toward her dresser as she continues to the bedside table. His back is turned toward her as she grabs some tissues and wipes at the come between her legs. She’s just going to climb into bed, and she’s really not in the mood for messy sheets.

Bobbi throws the wad of tissues in the bin next to her dresser, and sits on her bed. Her eyes are immediately drawn to his ass and she laughs inwardly at herself before admiring it; so what, he's always had a nice ass.

He rifles through the drawers for a bit, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants and one of his shirts before turning back around to face her. "I'll just-." He stops himself in favor of hooking his thumb over his shoulder and she bites the inside of her cheek. He takes her silence as an answer and he takes two steps before she finds her voice.

"Stay," she rasps out and he freezes. She can't believe the word that just left her mouth either. 

Sure, she's thought it a million different times as he left before, but she's never said it, until now. She's not sure what compelled her to, but she doesn't want to take it back, not one bit.

He slowly pivots on the ball of his foot and she can't get a read on what he's feeling. He looks unsure and she needs to do something to change that. 

"Please," she adds quietly, and he nearly falls over backwards. Bobbi has never been one to beg; it's a surprise to them both.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," he says, surprise coloring his voice, He drops the clothes to the floor as Bobbi climbs under the covers, holding them open invitingly. 

Lance settles on the mattress and she immediately pillows her head on his shoulder. His hand hovers above her back for a split second before letting his fingers run over the knots of her spine. 

She knows he can tell she’s fighting off sleep, although it’s getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open. “Sleep, Bob,” he murmurs. “I’ll be here in the morning.” His words do the trick of comforting her and she brings her hand up to his chest, covering his heart with a loose fist.

Bobbi falls asleep within minutes, but not before she feels him sigh and press his lips to the top of her head in a loose kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bobbiimorses)  
> [tumblr](http://teacupandhellbeast.tumblr.com/)


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